


Today (the minutes seem like hours)

by EmeraldTulip



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Brainwashing, Canon Temporary Character Death, Gen, Introspection, Tag to "Turncoat", minor timecanary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldTulip/pseuds/EmeraldTulip
Summary: “You say her name as if she’s supposed to matter to me.”She is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> well, "turncoat" was a roller coaster. and evil rip... well, lets just say it was interesting.  
> so i was scrolling through tumblr and saw a post saying something like "how long until we get a fic about rips 'you say her name as if she matters' line" so here I am.  
> im amazed i could stretch a one-an-a-half minute scene into something a little over a thousand words (still shorter than most of my works, but thats okay). im also amazed I've watched it so many times. it kind of broke me.  
> oh, and the title is from the song "tonight" from west side story.  
> enjoy, everyone!

 

“Rip… Rip, it’s Sara,” Jax pleads, the boy’s eyes wide and terrified, flicking between the barrel of the gun aimed at him and the woman gasping in the med bay chair.

Rip nearly doesn’t look away from Jax, gun still aimed at him, his own eyes fixed on the youngest crew member. But for a moment, he focuses on Sara’s sickly pale face. She’s gasping for air under his iron grip, clawing—batting, more accurately—weakly at his hands. He’s fortunate she’s still injured from when he shot her earlier (although, he supposes, it would be easier for everyone if she’d just died then).

He almost can’t believe he’s ended up in this situation. He only came onto his old ship to retrieve his piece of the spear, and now he has the life of a former teammate in his hands.

_It wasn’t supposed to be her._

He almost growls out loud in his frustration, because this has happened more and more frequently, even by the hour. He has a mission to complete, dammit, and any remorse his old self might have for this action has no place in it.

Unbidden, a small piece of his mind rebels against him, whispering it again: _it wasn’t supposed to be her._

And it’s true, because Sara has evaded death so many times before this, it’s so _wrong_ for everything to end like this. It’s wrong for it to be _him_. And it’s so wrong for it to be her to have to die (again) at all.

His logical mind reasons, _she’s their leader now. She has to go._

That small piece of rebellion simply whispers back, _please, anyone but her._

Under his hand, he can feel Sara’s throat trying to perform its natural workings, rattling gasps and brief chokes escaping her mouth. He tightens his grip, slightly. Her eyes, panicky and pained, meet his, and he’s almost thrown from his goal.

Because, as Jax said, and as he already very well knows, this is Sara. How could he do this to her? He can go, Jax has already told him where the spear fragment is.

And, beyond that, this is Sara Lance, the White Canary. This is Sara Lance, sister of the late Laurel Lance, Black Canary. This is Sara Lance, former member of the League of Assassins. This is Sara Lance, new Captain of the Waverider. This is Sara Lance, Legend.

This is Sara, the one who literally left her lifetime to try to help him save his family. He can’t just kill her… can he?

He’s been selfish, so selfish, and she’s been utterly selfless. She’s been kind, and honest, and always ready to do what they need for their missions to succeed. She’s been everything he’s needed her to be.

She’s been everything.

He won’t pretend something in his chest didn’t ache when he walked in just in time to see how much Martin Stein obviously cared about her. The same with Jax, moments later. Because they’ve somehow, impossibly, grown even closer since the last time he saw them. And it’s impossible to hate Sara, isn’t it? But he does, somehow, in a way he doesn’t understand. He _has_ to hate her. But, truly, how can he?

She is _everything_.

He tears his eyes away, though he’s not sure if anyone even noticed he was looking at her.

“Come on,” Jax continues, begging at this point, but Rip isn’t listening anymore even though he’s looking at him. He glances back down, this time holding his gaze.

Sara’s lips move, and though no sound escapes, the message couldn’t be clearer.

_Rip._

There’s a look on her face, something he’s seen only once before, when she begged him to go back and rescue her sister, Black Canary. It’s a look that shakes him right down to the core because _Sara Lance is never helpless._ Except, right now, she is. For a moment, almost nonexistent, his grip falters, and Sara draws in the smallest breath, repeating his name as just a ghost of air.

_Rip._

He could step away now. He could relinquish his grip at this very moment, just walk away and find his spear piece and leave. He could let this extraordinary woman live and still get what he needs.

But she’s still their leader, and Eobard Thawne is his now.

He has to do this.

Because no, she isn’t selfless, kind, honest. No. No she isn’t. She is just a fool who listened to him when he was an even bigger fool. This is a fool who tries to go out of her way to repair time when there simply isn’t a point.

And she’s helpless now because of it.

 _She deserves this,_ he thinks, and in the moment it’s his favorite lie.

 _Rip,_ she mouths again, eyes desperate, pleading.

 _I don’t care._ And yes, he knows that’s not true. He cares very much, although he’s not sure if it’s about the mission or _her_. But either way…

He’s made up his mind.

“It’s _Sara_ ,” Jax reiterates, voice cracking.

And unless he looks away from Sara—no, not Sara, just _her_ —he won’t be able to do it.

Rip tears his eyes away, looking at the young mechanic. He knows that whatever he says next will determine a lot.

The few seconds he hesitates feel like hours.

 “You say her name as if she’s supposed to matter to me.”

_She is._

_She_ does _matter._

 _Please, not her, not_ Sara _…_

He looks down at _her_. He needs this to hurt for the both of them. She needs this to be her last memory, because it will hurt the most. And he needs this to be his last memory of her for the same reason.

“She doesn’t.”

In less than two seconds, it’s done. Her eyes close, and the bright blue of them vanishes for the last time. Her arm, previously batting at his hand, falls limply to her side.

He draws his hand away from the body—that’s all it is now, just a body. A body of someone who certainly never mattered to him.

As he leaves, he ignores Jax’s cries of anguish behind him.

“No, no, no… _Sara…_ ”

She doesn’t matter.

**Author's Note:**

> wow that was... well. yeah.  
> anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed! feel free to leave a comment!


End file.
